Truth or Dare
by Skate-815
Summary: Peter and Olivia get trapped in an old, abandoned storeroom overnight. To pass the time, they decide to get to know each other a little better... Bolivia, naturally.
1. Prologue

**Okay, so I'm going to level with you. This fic isn't going to be the most well written thing I've ever posted, mostly because I thrive on angst, and I decided that this time around I wanted to try something more fun.**

**This first chapter's just an introduction before the real fic starts.**

Prologue

"I don't get it" Olivia laughed, as she followed her civilian consultant through some old winding corridors of Harvard, "First you complain to my sister that I never give you a weekend off, and when we finally don't have a case, you spend your time here anyway"

"Just because I'm not working, doesn't mean I have the weekend off" Peter grumbled, "It's worse, actually because now Walter's under my feet all day. I feel like I'm a single parent." She giggled at that, because for all his complaining she knew very well, if pressed he would admit that having his father back in his life wasn't a bad thing. And if she happened to get him a little tipsy, he would even confess that he was thankful for him.

"And anyway, you're one to talk" he continued, shooting her a sideways glance, "You're right here with me."

"You asked me to come" she reminded him, but the only answer she received this time was a shrug.

It had been a typical Sunday night in the Bishop household. Walter had banged on the bathroom door until Peter got out of the shower, apparently remembering only just this second that there may be another, perhaps more detailed copy of the ZFT manuscript hidden away in some old store room that Walter had used before St. Claire's. Of course, the manuscript could equally be missing, destroyed or very possibly not have existed in the first place, but his father was eager for Peter to go check, and to check as soon as possible. And so, one phone call and half an hour later, Olivia met Peter in Harvard's car park, smiling at his apologetic expression.

* * *

There had been no one around to ask directions, so Peter had taken upon himself to lead her down through the musty, old disused corridors, claiming to know exactly where they were going.

"I think it's in here" he said, stopping in front of a heavy looking door.

"Are you sure?" she asked, dubious. Walter had said that his manuscript was in a storeroom, but this particular room was only a little bigger than a cupboard.

"No" he admitted, "But it's definitely around here somewhere. It can't hurt to look"

Fifteen minutes later, he was regretting those words. After successfully picking the lock on the old door, the pair had stepped inside and allowed the door to swing shut behind them. It was only after they gave up looking for the document amongst all the clutter that Olivia thought to try the door again, and found that it was shut tight. Peter tried to barge his way through, but his attempts gave him little more than a bruised ego, and an even more painful shoulder. Plan number two was to call for help, but Peter's phone was flat, while Olivia's was in her car.

It was completely Peter's fault, of course but when Olivia told him so, he didn't seem to take it very well, and so she pretended that it was no big deal that they were stuck in a room that was so small they could barely move, and reminded him that tomorrow classes would resume and the building would be teeming with people. He was still, however, sat with his back against the opposite corner, a scowl firmly on his face.

"Let's look at this as an opportuinty" she said suddenly, hoping he wasn't planning on sulking for the entire 12 hours they were inevitably going to be trapped for, "I mean, we could play a game or something. Pass the time."

"A game?" Peter asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but she ignored him. Casting her mind back to a time not so long ago, she remembered an off hand comment he'd made to her when she'd voiced her surprise at how well he spoke Chinese, and a spark of inspiration struck.

"Yeah, we could get to know each other a bit better." A smile played on his lips at her unfortunate wording, but he didn't pass comment. Instead, he merely suggested

"How about I Never."

"That doesn't really work without liquor" she pointed out, and he nodded in acknowledgement

"Truth or dare, then?"

"No dares, Peter" she groaned, "There's nothing to do in here anyway" his raised eyebrow told her he could think of plenty to do with her in a little cramped storeroom, but he conceded

"Fine, just truth then." He paused, looking happier already, "But you have to be totally honest, and to stop things getting repetitive you can't ask a question that's already been asked."

"Okay," she agreed, despite the growing feeling that she was going to regret this, "But I want three vetoes"

"One" Peter said, firmly, and she sighed

"Fine. I'll go first"

* * *

**I know it's short, but like I said, it's just an introduction. Chapter 1 is already written and will be posted on Sunday, all being well.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Wow, I'm seriously overwhelmed by the response this fic has gotten. I'm assuming the influx of new stories and new reviewers is down to the awesomeness that was Jacksonville? Whatever the reason, I'm grateful for everyone who took the time to read and review the prologue.**

**To answer a question that appeared in a review, no I don't think I'm going to make this fic an M, quite simply because I've never written one before and while there's a first time for everything, I've already mostly decided what's happening in this story.**

**Oh and in case anyone is wondering, this fanfic is set between Snakehead and Grey Matters.**

Chapter 1

Although she'd volunteered to ask the first question, Olivia had to pause to think of what she wanted to ask. She had been sitting with her back against a cold, concrete wall, sitting cross legged on the floor, in an exact reflection of Peter's position, but now she stretched her legs out, so that they lay along the floor, not quite reaching Peter and she cast her eyes around the room, looking for inspiration.

It was slightly bigger than she'd originally given it credit for. Shelves lined the wall Peter was sitting against, beginning just above his head. There was a desk to her right and his left with one solitary chair she would sit in if the floor got too uncomfortable, but for now at least she liked being on an even footing to Peter. The room wasn't wide- if her feet were nearly touching Peter, then his long legs would nearly reach her wall if he stretched himself out fully- but it was long enough to lie down in if someone didn't come looking for them that night.

"Come on Dunham" Peter remarked impatiently, "Surely there's something you've always wanted to know about me…" There was certainly plenty she wanted to ask, but she regretted taking the first question, realising now that he was waiting for her to set the tone- she would be the one to dictate just how personal this little game was going to be. Without knowing why, she recalled what Peter had said to her, when she'd displayed open astonishment at just how well he spoke Chinese, and suddenly her first question became obvious,

"What languages do you speak?" he looked surprised that she'd opened with something so innocent, which immediately made her wonder what kind of questions he was in the mood to ask. He answered, however without passing remark,

"English obviously, French, Spanish, German, Persian, Cantonese, Mandarin, a bit of Russian, Arabic and enough Kurdish to get by" he rhymed off, but he had the look on his face where it looked like he was trying to recall if there were any more, "Oh and Klingon."

"Klingon?" she snorted, and looked up at her, a playfully hurt expression on his face

"Hey, the rules say we have to be completely honest." He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, before he asked,

"Do you have a best friend these days?" she gave him a surprised smile. She had been expecting a lot worse from him than a throw back to a conversation they'd had over a year ago.

"Yes" she answered simply, because that was all he'd asked for. He frowned, knowing that he'd phrased his question wrong, but well aware that he could do nothing about it now

"Who's your best friend?" she asked, picking up from his train of thought, genuinely curious what sort of company he kept outside of the lab

"I don't know. You, probably" he said in a casual tone that didn't match the sincerity in his eyes, "How are Rachel and Ella doing? The last time I saw your sister, we were visiting you in the hospital."

"She's doing okay. Things are better between her and Greg," He gave her an odd, disbelieving look, so she quickly corrected, "I don't mean they're getting back together or anything like that, but they're not fighting over custody either." Peter nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer, and for some unknown reason, it stung. She had never liked the idea of her sister and her partner socialising, but she had never been able to pinpoint exactly why that would be.

She glanced up at him, wondering if she could ask what she desperately wanted to, or if it would be crossing some sort of unknown line. Meeting his eyes, she saw amusement dancing there, and it was that that forced the question from her,

"Did you sleep with Rachel?" his lips twitched into a half smile that she could see he was trying very hard to quash as he said one word, very firmly and very clearly,

"Veto." His eyes flitted around the room, as if searching for inspiration before he asked,

"What did you major in?" It was a very deliberate change of topic, and it only infuriated her more.

"Psychology" she answered quickly, before she quickly fired out her next question,

"Did you ever kiss Rachel?" There was a long silence, before Peter finally spoke,

"Does it matter?" she opened her mouth to argue, but he sighed and answered, "Yes, I kissed her, but it was a long time ago now." Just under a year ago didn't seem quite so long to Olivia, but she let that part go. He had been obviously eager to leave this particular topic behind, and that only confirmed what Olivia had long since suspected- he had indeed screwed her sister. Probably without so much as a thought about how it would affect her too. It hurt, but she tried to forget about it, at least until they both got out of the room, otherwise it would make things too strained between them.

"What's this fascination with me and Rachel?" he asked, in a way that reminded all too much of the time he'd asked her if it bothered her that he was 'friends' with her sister.

"She deserves better" she replied coolly. He didn't appear to be shocked by her answer, but his voice was stony when he asked,

"Than?"

"Greg was unreliable, but you'd be a thousand times worse, Peter. You and I both know what a responsibility the Fringe Division can be and Rachel doesn't deserve to be stood up because you're stuck chasing down the latest monster with me."

"Oh" that wasn't the answer he'd been expecting, clearly, but she supposed that it wasn't the answer she'd been intending on giving until a few seconds before she spoke. Regardless, she'd answered without hurting his feelings, which had been the main goal anyway. However this game was turning out to be far from the light distraction she had anticipated, and so with her next question she tried to pull the conversation in an altogether better direction,

"Who was your first crush?"

"Princess Leia" he answered, without embarrassment or hesitation, a smile playing over his lips at the memory, "But I'm sure you could have guessed as much" she nodded in agreement, but it was the first thing she'd thought of to lighten the mood,

"What age did you have your first kiss?"

"Real kiss?" she asked, and he nodded in confirmation. She took a moment to think, and frowned, wondering if she could really be that old,

"Seventeen" she finally confessed, and although that seemed awfully old, he didn't seem surprised. She supposed that in many ways, he'd been as lonely as she in childhood,

"What age did you lose your virginity?" she tried, knowing he would go there next if she didn't.

"Fifteen" she couldn't prevent her brows from shooting to the roof, and he laughed in a self depreciating way, "Hey, in case you haven't guessed already, I was one screwed up kid. I take it you expected something else?" she nodded without quite knowing why.

"And I'm also guessing you waited for someone special?" he continued, without the hint of mockery she would expect from a cynic such as himself, and she nodded again, "So what was the lucky boy's name?" She wondered if he was running out of questions or merely giving her a breather, but she was grateful for either.

"Joshua" Although she appreciated the easy question he had given her, a brilliant one to ask just occured to her. One that would hopefully make him just as uncomfortable as she'd felt when she'd told her he'd kissed Rachel, while perhaps allowing her to work out if he had really slept with her sister.

"When was the last time you had sex?" she asked, smiling at him darkly. A mildly horrified look flickered over his face before the poker face came down, and he answered with a false calm

"Veto"

"You've already used yours" she reminded him, wondering why he was so worried about telling her. Unless the answer was either a ridiculously short time ago, or if it was a lot longer ago than she'd expected.

"Fine, I never slept with Rachel, happy?" He snapped, sounding more annoyed at her than she felt he had reason to be, but she was indeed happy to hear his answer, she really truly was, for reasons she wasn't quite prepared to admit to herself

"Veto" he reiterated and she was so pleased, she felt inclined to let him away with his blatant bending of the rules, just this once.

"Okay." She sighed. Sensing her good mood, Peter's irritated expression evaporated and he gave her a cheeky smile before asking,

"When was the last time you had a sex dream?"

"Peter!" she complained, but he was unforgiving,

"If you don't want to answer it, don't. But don't forget you only get one veto." She supposed she'd brought it on herself by asking him about his last time, but it didn't make her feel any less embarrassed. She wanted to use her veto, but she sensed he had something a lot worse planned for her, and so she realised she'd better save it for later

"Friday night" she admitted, through gritted teeth, and for the second time since she'd met him, his smile reminded her of the Cheshire Cat's.

"Starring who?" he asked, a light teasing in his tone. She almost vetoed, before she realised that he was playing out of turn, and now he had unwillingly given her the advantage,

"It's my turn, not yours." She saw his smile waver a little, "Same question." He glanced at the floor, before trying weakly

"I suppose you won't accept a veto?"

"Nope" this time it was her turn to give a smile that could light up the room, absolutely loving this turn of events.

"You" he finally replied, looking her straight in the eye as he spoke. Before she'd even asked, she'd somehow known that would be his answer, but it still managed to bring a pink tinge to her cheeks that matched his. He was the first to break the eye contact, as he looked at the floor when he asked,

"Was John your first love?" she shook her head in response,

"No, that was Lucas." His brows knitted together, and she saw him mentally trying to place the name. For some reason, she was none too keen for him to remember how they'd recently spent some time in Germany together, and so she spoke quickly, aiming to divert his attention from her ex lover.

"How many times have you been in love?"

"Three," he sounded distracted, clearly still thinking about Lucas, before he gave up,

"Where have I heard that name before?"

"He was my liaison in Germany that time I went to interview Jones" she admitted, and as expected, she noticed something very much akin to jealousy flicker behind his eyes. Feeling oddly daring, she asked, not without recognising the irony

"Does that bother you?"

"A little" he confessed, in an answer that was a lot more honest than one she would have given him under similar circumstances, "But I suppose how much it bothers me depends on what happened that night…"

"Is that a question?" she asked, and he paused to consider it, before agreeing

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"We kissed, you called, we got back to work." She summarised, leaving out the part where she never really had any intention of having sex with Lucas that evening, enjoying this new found power she had over Peter, whose eyes were darker and more jealous than she had ever seen them.

This was turning out to be a lot more fun than she'd anticipated.

* * *

**This was unbetaed as usual, so all mistakes are my fault.**

**Chapter 2 is pretty much written and should be up on Wednesday, I think.**

**Please review, especially if you have any particular questions you want them to ask the other...**


	3. Chapter 2

**Again, big thanks to anyone who read and reviewed the previous chapter.**

Chapter 2

As much as Olivia was enjoying Peter's poorly concealed jealousy, she was well aware she was still trapped in a storeroom with him for the duration of the night, and so she very deliberately looked away from his stare and tried to think of a topic that wouldn't cause too much controversy between them.

"What's your favourite TV show?" she finally settled on a question, despite having very little time for anything other than the news.

"At the minute?"

"Yeah" she answered, not really caring either way

"Lost."

"Polar bears on an island?" she crinkled her nose in disgust and he chuckled,

"Spoken like a true critic who's never seen a single episode. Trust me, it's good."

"I'll take your word for it." she sighed, and he shook his head slightly,

"You don't know what you're missing." He said firmly. He hesitated before his next question, most likely wondering how to phrase it, until finally he spoke "If you could go back, knowing what you know now, would you still join the FBI?" It was an odd question, and she gave it the full consideration it deserved before she replied,

"I think so." His head titled in a way that was just begging her to go on, and so she threw him a bone, "If I'd never joined, I'd never have met some of the most important people in my life. John and Charlie would still have died; I'd just never have known them. And you'd just be living your shallow, meaningless life in Iraq." She was only half joking about the last part, but he smiled good naturedly. Still, she wondered what had caused him to ask such a question to begin with, and if he was still having doubts after all this time,

"Do you like working for the Fringe Division?"

"I think so. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a big fan of the near death experiences and I still wish we lived in a world where it wasn't necessary, but I'm glad you fetched me from Iraq." He gave a small, lethargic sigh, a mixture of exhaustion and defeat before he continued, "It's nice to have a purpose again Olivia, and I guess I have you to thank for that." He favoured her with one of those wonderfully intense stares. The type that made her feel like she was the one woman in the entire universe that mattered to him in that moment. He allowed her a few seconds to absorb his words before he continued,

"Where do you see yourself in ten years?" his voice was soft, but that didn't prevent her from rolling her eyes at his quite frankly, boring question.

"This is beginning to sound like a job interview, Peter" she complained, but he looked at her obstinately,

"Answer or veto."

"Honestly? I think you and I will both be dead in ten years." She knew that was far from the response he had wished for, but she'd promised herself at the beginning of this game that she would be as honest as she could with him. However when he didn't react, she frowned, "That wasn't the answer you wanted." He raised an eyebrow to her statement of fact, and asked,

"Is that a question?" It almost felt like he was mimicking her earlier response, but unlike him she didn't bite.

"Just an observation." She shook her head, before realising she didn't actually have anything else to ask, so she relented, "Go on then. What did you want me to say?"

"I didn't have anything in particular in mind. I just want you to be happy" he said without any sense of embarassment. And the look in his eye was just so tender that she found herself agreeing with him,

"I want you to be happy too."

"Well mission accomplished." He smiled, stretching out as he spoke, "Working here, with you- it's been good for me. Do you want kids?" His sudden question threw her and she stumbled over it,

"Not right now" he gave her a look that said that much was obvious, and embarrassed, she corrected herself, "Well, maybe someday. If I met the right man and there was no impending apocalypse, I don't see why not."

"I think I feel the same." He confessed, "Up until last year, children were never exactly part of the plan. I was afraid that…" he broke off and she nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. Afraid he would be a disaster as a parent; afraid his children would grow up as unloved as he had felt; afraid he would turn into his father, "Well I was just afraid. Meeting Walter again helped, I think. And now I could see myself having children, with the right woman of course…" He fell silent, but before she could ask a question in return, he gave a long yawn that she couldn't help but mirror. It couldn't be that late she reasoned, but she understood why living with someone like Walter would take up a lot of energy.

For the moment, the questions ceased, and the spell she had found herself under whilst playing their game faded. Slowly, she began to become more self aware again and quickly realised that she was beginning to lose the feeling in her leg from sitting still for so long. There was nowhere else to go, however, except for the frankly uncomfortable looking chair, or Peter's side of the room. She was also growing steadily colder, and it was on that basis that she made her decision.

"Are you cold?" she asked abruptly, and he shook his head in response,

"Not particularly. Why? Are you?" despite intending to deny it, she nodded, "Come here then" he told her, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world

On any other Sunday night, she would have told him she was fine where she was, but being trapped in this little enclosed space was making things so much different between the pair of them. He was asking her things she had to suppose he would never dare to under normal circumstances, and she was answering them with very little thought. The game was serving its purpose, however. She truly felt that in a way, she knew him better than she had before they started all of this, despite nothing overly intense being exchanged.

And so she shuffled around the room until she was sitting by his side. While she'd moved, he had shrugged off his peacoat and put it over her like a blanket. After a second's hesitation, she rested her head on his shoulder. Strictly speaking, she shouldn't, but she silenced her doubts by reminding herself that this wasn't an everyday situation. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his hands hovering, unsure whether or not he could put an arm around her. In the end, he compromised, and allowed his right to remain loosely by his side while he faux-stretched with his left and allowed it to fall around her shoulders. She had to hide a smile at his juvenile move, not wanting to embarrass him now that he was sharing his body heat with her.

* * *

They remained still and silent for an immeasurable period of time. She'd told herself firmly that she would only sit with him until she'd warmed up, but now that she was actually in the moment, she found that he was a lot more comfortable than any wall and despite herself, she felt her eyes growing heavy.

"What time is it?" he reluctantly lifted his left arm just long enough to peer at his watch in the poor light before he returned it to it's original spot, this time his fingers trailing lightly up and down her upper arm, through the fabric.

"About half ten" she was surprised, in a way that so much time had passed already.

"I guess we really will be stuck here until tomorrow," she sighed, but although she had hoped that someone would have passed their door by now, she was beginning to think she could quite happily spend the remainder of the night sitting with Peter like this.

"It's your turn" she remarked, despite not really remembering whether it was or not,

"You want to keep playing?" he asked, and she shrugged against him. It had served well in passing the time thus far, and so she could see little reason to stop until she couldn't think of anything more to ask.

"Okay…" he paused as he thought, and out of the corner of her eye she saw him smile, "Got one. What was you first impression of me?" she smiled back, for an entirely different reason. That was an easy one.

"I think my exact words were misfit, nomad and massive pain in the ass."

"Gee, thanks" he said dryly, but she shrugged again,

"You did ask." She smiled, "And you were a nomad."

"That one, I'll give you, but the other two were a tad harsh, don't you think?" His tone had elements of light teasing in it, but she sensed that he had expected an answer along the lines of finding him tall, dark and handsome, and her critical opinions had stung, so she smiled

"I don't think you're a misfit anymore. These days, you're more normal than me."

"True." He nodded, "Plus I trust you don't think I'm a huge pain in the ass anymore."

"Sometimes I do" she remarked, "But sometimes you can be really sweet too, so it balances out." His smile was nothing less than radiant. It seemed he'd taken that as more of a compliment than she'd intended, but she refrained from antagonising him again, at least for now, because a question had just popped into her head.

"When did you realise you liked me?" His hand ceased stroking her shoulder for a moment and she realised her question had thrown him through her unfortunate phrasing,

"As opposed to when?" he asked carefully,

"We both know you hated me from dragging you away from your oil deal in Iraq." She prompted.

"Oh" he said, and his fingers resumed their absentminded dance against her, "I never really disliked you. I remember being surprised that you tricked me. Impressed, even, but I certainly never hated you. And that just makes me want to ask you the same question…"

"But you can't" she finished for him, smiling sweetly, "Hey, they were your rules, remember."

"Something tells me I wouldn't like the answer anyway" he grumbled and Olivia chose not to tell him that she'd ceased disliking him the moment he'd fetched her a coffee and told her about his debt to Big Eddie, and she'd started to like him around the time he decided to stay in Boston. And she'd realised that she _liked_ him a good while after that, when Rachel started paying him entirely too much attention for her taste.

"I'm gonna ask you something serious now" he said after a moment of silence, "I don't want you to joke, or laugh, and I don't want you to lie to save my feelings, okay?"

"Okay" she nodded, sitting up properly and pulling out of his grasp, so she could look into his eyes, hoping he could tell she was taking whatever this was seriously.

"Do you think I'm a good person? I mean I'm trying, God knows I am, but I'm not like you." he spoke with such real concern that she felt she wanted to do nothing more than lavish him with praise, because although he could be arrogant as hell, she knew he could be ridiculously insecure at the strangest of times, and it seemed that this was one of them. However she knew he'd asked for her honest opinion, and so she gave him the bad with the good,

"You've done a lot of bad things, Peter. I mean, we before met I never would have classified someone like you as anything other than a petty criminal. You were involved in some shady deals with some even shadier people, and if you'd never done anything wrong, you would never have believed the FBI had a file on you" she reminded him, "And even now, there are some days that I half expect Big Eddie to turn up with a shotgun looking for you. You're certainly more interesting than the average civilian consultant to put it lightly, Peter." He broke the stare, looking down at the floor,

"I'm really hoping there's going to be a 'but' any time now." he grimaced, and she spoke again, emphasising the first word,

"_But_ now I do know you, and I like what I see. You're brave, and you're loyal, and you're just so ridiculously, unabashedly clever… And you look after me. Don't think I don't notice, because I do. You're good Peter. Or at least, you're good enough for me."

"Thank you" he spoke in little over a whisper, but she could sense his gratitude, and it embarrassed her a little. Shrugging, she smiled,

"It's true." He was giving her _that_ look again. The one he'd given her when she'd been lying in that hospital bed and she'd told him he was good at looking after the people he cared about. It was the look of pure, unadulterated adoration that had terrified her before, but she found herself warming to now. Without thinking, his tongue snaked out between his lips and wetted them, and she felt her heart quicken from both excitement and terror as his eyes flicked down to her lips.

He wanted to kiss her, that much she knew for sure, but even after all these rounds of loaded questions she didn't know exactly how she felt about that. They both sat completely still for a few seconds, Peter obviously wanting some sort of sign she wasn't going to shoot him down, Olivia just too nervous to give him one. After too much hesitation on both their parts, Peter gave her a small smile and looked away and with a strange mixture of relief and disappointment, she did the same. The moment lost, she leant back against the same wall he was sitting against, this time keeping space between their bodies.

She risked a glance, and saw Peter was looking straight ahead and very deliberately not at her. Swallowing hard, she sought hard for something to say to re-establish the conversation, but she came up with nothing immediately.

Sometimes Olivia just wished she could be the girl who could sleep with her cute co-worker without a second thought.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. I hope you'll favour me with a review :)**

**Next chapter should be up on Saturday, I believe.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Again, thanks for all the comments.**

**This chapter is even less ****humorous** than the last, but it's more about confessions. Mostly Peter's confessions, because he's a lot worse at this game than Olivia.

**I hope you enjoy it.**

Chapter 3

Peter was staring straight ahead, very obviously lost in thought. While Olivia was usually content to let him just think when he wanted to, tonight she was both bored and feeling the need for some sort of human contact. And so, she spoke suddenly, breaking the strange silence that had fallen across the room.

"I'm cold again." It was true- a genuine shiver had just run down her spine, but she equally had an ulterior motive. She hoped that a little physical touching between them would be enough to inspire him to make the first move, and take the complicated decision away from her, for while she was toying with the idea of just reaching up and kissing him, there was still a stern, very bureaucratic voice in the back of her mind that told her that dating, sleeping with or even kissing Peter Bishop was a bad idea that could only lead to more heartbreak she wasn't prepared for.

"What?" he woke up from his trance, but she was already moving towards him, scooting around so her head rested on his chest and she yanked his coat over herself again. Despite his earlier hesitation, he was more daring this time, his left arm snaked completely around her waist, pinning her to him, his hand this time resting against her thigh.

From her new vantage point, she could hear his heart racing in his chest, confirming, in her mind at least, that he was more nervous than he outwardly appeared. They had just avoided kissing yet again, but Peter had an unguarded smile on his face, signalling perhaps that he was still pleased with her for telling him he was a good person. That knowledge made her feel like she had a strange power over him, and so she hazarded the question that had been hovering in the back of her mind for the past hour or more.

"Peter, why did you veto that question?"

"The Rachel one, or the one about the last time I had sex?"

"The second one." She didn't really know why she wanted to know, especially since she had only asked him the question in the first place so that she could figure out whether or not he had slept with Rachel. However it seemed important, somehow in the back of her mind, possibly because she was all too aware he would know the last person she had been in any way intimate with was John, and she didn't like being on an uneven footing with him.

"It's cheating to ask me that" she waited for him to continue, but he fell silent.

"It's been a really long time for me too, you know. I won't laugh" she promised, but he merely shrugged, and it seemed that telling him what a sparklingly good individual he is hadn't earned her nearly enough brownie points for that particular question.

"Fine" she sighed when it became clear he didn't intend to answer, "When was the last time you had the chance to sleep with someone?" it was a stupid question to ask, but she found that now they'd gone this far, asking him about his favourite movie would feel like a waste of time.

"I don't know, Liv. It's not like I keep a diary of it or anything" he was avoiding the question and she knew it, so she pressed harder.

"Okay, do you have feelings for anyone in particular?" she asked, determined to get some sort of real answer from him. She knew all too well that he had feelings for hers- asking this was her only seeking confirmation of what she had long since suspected.

"Olivia…" Peter's tone held a warning, "Don't."

"Don't what?" she argued back and she felt him stiffen against her,

"Don't ask questions when you know you're not going to like the answer." She could see he was as terrified of rejection as she was of intimacy, and so she tried to be as encouraging as possible, smiling openly at him in the face of his rebellion against the question.

"You've already used your veto. Twice, might I add." She pointed out in a playful tone that totally contradicted his entirely tense demeanour.

"I'm just asking you nicer questions" he complained, a hint of the usual Peter resurfacing.

"Just answer" she rolled her eyes, and she felt him sigh, before he finally answered with one word.

"Yes." Although he gave no further details, they both knew there could only be one person he was speaking about. All that remained was for him to ask her who she had feelings for and this dance between them would abruptly, wonderfully end. However Peter said nothing for a long time, and from her position against his chest she heard his heart rate slowly return to a normal pace. When he did eventually speak, his actual question was more hesitant than she had expected.

"Do you think you've really moved on from John now?" she knew he wanted her to say yes, she was ready to try something real with someone else, but she felt that she owed him an honest answer, after everything he had shared with her that night. When she thought about her ex lover, it still hurt, there was no denying that. However the occasions she spent dwelling on losing him were becoming fewer and with farther between. At least now she could see herself with other men without feeling a burning shame. Sometimes one other man in particular.

"Sometimes" she answered finally. "But there's times when the smallest thing will remind me of him and I just feel it all over again." She turned her head to look up at him. He was looking straight ahead, focusing on a damp spot on the wall opposite for no reason other than avoiding her stare. They were closer than ever now, and if he were only to look down at her, she realised, their lips would be inches from touching.

"Peter?"

"Mmm?"

"Look at me," her voice was soft, but it was an unmistakable command, and one which he obeyed.

"Tell me who you have feelings for." She spoke in a whisper because it felt far more intimate that way, and she knew that would make it harder for him to avoid answering. Peter's poker face had long since disappeared, and it was written all over his face that he only had eyes for one woman. However his whisper held an air of defiance as he replied,

"Veto" she could have slapped him then and there. They were so close, and he was terrified of what? That she was making him jump through all these hoops so she could reject him in the most painful way possible?

"No, Peter. I let you change it once, but not this time. Just tell me."

"You already know" he pointed out. That much had been more than obvious for at least a good hour. They were still sitting far too close, and she could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he stared down at her.

"Do I?" she smiled candidly and he sighed.

"You really want me to say it?" she nodded against him and there was another silence before finally, he spoke heavily, "It's you. I have feelings for you, but then I've never really tried to hide that. The real question is how do you feel about me?" she craned her neck upwards, hoping her gentle kisses would show him, but turned his head before she could make contact.

His arm was still, however snugly around her waist and he was showing no signs of releasing her any time soon. He was confusing her, but she supposed that was probably his goal- to make her feel as lost as he felt every time she flirted with him before pretending like he was nothing more than a friend to her.

"How long have you known?" his tone was far from light, but it was obvious they had pretty much passed the point where this conversation could be referred to as a 'game' anymore.

"That you're in love with me?" she asked, and instantly he corrected her,

"I never said that I…"

"Well whatever," she said dismissively, "I don't know. It feels like I've always known you liked me, but I'm sure that's not the case." It wasn't a real answer, but he seemed contented enough with it.

She knew that she could either ask him something else, or they could have a serious conversation about the possibility of a 'them'. She knew what she _should_ do, and what indeed Peter would want to do, but voicing anything felt like too big a risk. She had an enormous respect for him, putting himself out there like that, because despite the little rules they had created, she knew he would never have pushed her as hard for an answer as she had pushed him.

John had died before she'd ever fully opened up to him, and she desperately didn't want to make the same mistake twice. Peter wasn't asking for a profession of love; he just wanted a verbal confirmation that she felt _something _for him_._ But yet somehow even that felt too much.

"John would have hated you." It came from out of the blue, but it had only just occurred to her and she felt that for some odd reason she needed to say it. Despite everything, Peter laughed aloud.

"Is that an insult or a compliment?"

"I don't know. Neither." She laughed along with him, "Or maybe it's both." The laughter died away after a few moments, but it took the tension in the room away with it. When she looked up at him now, she no longer felt the terror she had moments before.

"Why wouldn't he have liked me?" Peter asked in a more light-hearted tone than he had used in hours. She was looking up at him, her head still gently on his chest, and she knew with this question she could get away with a meaningless little answer about John not liking anyone smarter than him, but something compelled her to give an entirely more significant reason.

"He would have been jealous."

She watched as Peter swallowed, but he said nothing, obviously having given up on getting anything real from her long ago. Remembering how nice it had felt when his hands had been trailing patterns on her shoulder, the fingers of her right hand started running up and down his upper, left thigh. His entire body stiffened at first, clearly startled, but he didn't move away, and he didn't ask her to stop. She listened as his heart rate increased until it was beating at a ferocious pace. If she were to move her hand a little up, a little right, she guessed his heart might just burst from his chest.

"What are you thinking about right now?" she asked, in a low whisper.

"Kissing you" he admitted, sounding vaguely hoarse, "More than kissing you." His eyes flicked down to meet hers and he looked simultaneously bashful, and very turned on. His dark eyes were focused solely on her lips now, but even now he refused to be the one to make the first move.

"Do it" she mumbled, leaning up towards him. This time, he didn't pull away.

* * *

**Happy St. Valentine's Day to all Fringe fans!**

**Reviews are love =]**


	5. Chapter 4

**Again, big thanks for all the support. **

Chapter 4

He met her half way, his lips touching hers tentatively to begin with before he progressively increased the pressure. Their position, while good for hugging, was proving to be very restrictive, and so Olivia pulled back and moved so she was kneeling between his legs. For all of his earlier hesitation, Peter's lips quickly crashed into hers and his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her as close to him as was humanly possible. Her own fingers trailed over his stubble while the other hand was clasped to the base of his neck, holding him against her.

Before long, his lips left hers and began to trail a firy pattern across her cheek and down her neck. His stubble was scratching against her but not so much that it hurt, still in the back of her mind she made a mental note to get him to shave before next time. If, of course, there was to be a next time.

Still finding their positions too cramped, she pulled away from him abruptly. He gave her a confused look, that quickly transformed to a disbelieving smile as moved backwards, half lying on the floor, bringing him down with her. Eager to resume, Peter's lips soon found hers again and she matched his enthusiasm with her own, running her tongue along his bottom lip, melting against him when he granted her access without a second thought.

Her hand slid under his pullover, trailing the contours of his chest, and was almost surprised when she felt the size of his muscles contracting beneath her fingertips. He was in better shape than she had given him credit for, but then she supposed the last time she had the opportunity to see him half naked was over a year ago, and it seemed things had changed since then. Her other hand left his neck and found the bottom of his shirt. She began to pull it off, but was surprised when Peter's hands immediately left her face and caught them mid-action. He pulled back, and evaded her next attempt to kiss him, speaking in an undertone.

"I've got a question."

"No more questions, Peter" she groaned, kissing him again. He responded for perhaps a few seconds before he half shook his head and drew back from her again.

"It's kind of important." She stared at him for a moment, unsure whether or not he could be serious, and wondering if it was really so important that it couldn't wait until after… well after whatever their impromptu make out session had been about to develop into.

"Okay" she sighed and removed her hands from his chest, for now at least. He was still resting on top of her, one solitary hand next to her head keeping the majority of his weight from her.

"Is this a one time thing?" His voice was steady, but the look he was giving her was heartbreakingly intense and feeling almost ashamed, she had to look away, "I need to know if you're going to wake up tomorrow and pretend what happened here was nothing more than cabin fever. Because I can deal with that, I just need to know now." She recognised that he was giving her a way out, even if it was breaking his heart, but as selfish as she could be, she knew he deserved more and despite knowing it was a bad idea ,she asked softly

"What's my other option?" he raised an eyebrow, clearly not having expected this, and he smiled hesitantly

"I could take you out to dinner tomorrow night, and then maybe we could continue this in a bed," his free hand gently trailed down her jaw as he spoke, "Or not. We could take this as slow as you like." He broke off there and she stayed silence for several moments, thinking everything over. She had told him less than a quarter of an hour ago that she still had some degree of feelings for John, but her actions must have sent very clear signals that she was at least beginning to move on with her life.

She liked Peter, but the real question that was now most prominent in her mind was, did she like him enough? Enough to risk her personal and professional relationships with him? John's death had dragged her to hell and back and she wasn't sure she was prepared to risk something like that with someone else, especially with someone whose life was as danger-filled as her own. After several moments, Peter slowly sat up, and now that he was out of her personal space she found that decisions were that much harder to make.

"Can I sleep on it?" she asked finally, and sounding surprised, he nodded

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay then" she sat up and smiled softly, "I'm going to try and get some sleep" he nodded wordlessly, and she could sense he was nervous, considering the very real possibility that she might choose her job, and in fact, common sense, over a chance with him.

She moved away and settled herself on the floor, facing the opposite corner, knowing she'd never get any sleep if she had to watch him look at her. Peter waited for her to settle before he stood up and flicked the light switch off. As the room fell into darkness, he half stumbled over to that chair in the corner. He didn't move again for several minutes and she kept her breathing steady, hoping he wouldn't realise that she was just as awake as he was, until finally he shifted. Her eyes were closed, but she could almost sense him hovering above her until he placed the peacoat over her. A second later, he joined her on the floor, keeping a good foot of space between them.

She was just on the very verge of sleep when Peter's voice drew her back. However it didn't sound like he was talking to her.

"Please don't dream tonight. Please don't dream tonight. Please don't dream tonight." He was whispering his old mantra to himself, and the implications of it nearly caused her to roll over and talk to him about it. She wanted to both comfort him and confront him, for from his tone of voice, he seemed terrified of these nightmares and yet he had kept them from her. It almost seemed hypocritical, considering he always seemed to expect nothing less than full disclosure from her. He finally settled and she eventually decided to say nothing about it, now or in the morning. He obviously considered this a private matter, and he would come to her when he was ready to. His breathing finally became even and perhaps five minutes after that, she fell asleep.

* * *

Her eyes blinked open an indeterminable amount of time later. The lack of windows in the room made it impossible for her to have any real grasp of the time. Peter was still asleep beside her, snoring lightly. She sat up and rubbed a hand over her neck, before yawning, realising it was the overall discomfort her entire sleeping situation was bringing her that had awoken her and she still hadn't received nearly enough sleep.

Stretching, she heard a faint ticking noise and she remembered Peter's watch. Easing closer to him, she tilted her head to peer at the clock face in the almost total darkness. Eventually she found the little button to light up the screen, and winced. Half two. It would be another five hours at the very least before anyone walked by the door.

The quietness unnerved her, and she supposed that the best thing she could do was return to sleep for now. But the floor was just so hard, and now in the dark, she craved some sort of human contact. She still hadn't formed a real decision, but right now at least lying down close to the one man left who seemed to unabashedly adore her was seeming like less and less of a bad idea. So she very carefully eased herself down next to him, trying her best not to wake him. However it seemed she'd moved less delicately than she'd meant to, for she brushed against him, and immediately he stirred.

"Liv?" she turned over to face him, and smiled when he blinked blearily at her

"Hey" she whispered

"Are you okay?" he mumbled, sounding far from fully awake

"Yeah."

"Is it time to get up?" his utter confusion in his half awake state was decidedly cute, and she hid a smile.

"Not yet. Just go back to sleep, Peter"

"Okay" he replied, sounding as if he was just about there already. A few moments later, his snores resumed, and finally she felt herself being tugged back to unconsciousness.

* * *

"No" It was Peter's low moan that next caused Olivia to awaken, "No! Stay away from me" She sat up quickly, regarding him with uncertainty. She had the strange urge to wake him, to rescue him from his own mind, but she was unsure if he would want her to or not. He was shaking in his sleep, a few beads of sweat running from his brow even in the relative cold of the in all, he didn't look in a good way at all so, half frightened for him, she made her decision

"Peter" she hissed gently in his ear, "Wake up." Her whispers had little effect however, and so she took a hold of his shoulder and shook him perhaps a little too roughly. He jolted awake immediately and gave her the same confused look as last time.

"What's wrong?"

"You were having a nightmare" she replied, feeling her cheeks begin to burn a little. Perhaps she had indeed overreacted. He probably didn't even remember it now. However, then she recalled his tone of voice when he had been pleading with himself not to dream that night, and she knew that the bad dreams couldn't be a one off occurrence.

"Do you have them a lot?" she asked, hoping he wouldn't realise she already knew the answer.

"Sometimes" he admitted, in a begrudging tone

"Do you want to talk about them?"

"No" although his tone was firm, he also gave her a small smile, and he continued, "Thank you, though. For waking me up, I mean."

"No problem" she smiled shyly back, but she couldn't help but wonder what now? She still wasn't particularly in the mood to talk about what she knew Peter wanted to, and the best solution for them both would be to go back to sleep for now. But that was easier said than done when she knew Peter was inches from her in the dark, studying her. She could turn her back on him, but that felt unnecessarily unkind, especially since his breathing was yet to return to a normal rate.

Almost unconsciously, she moved closer to him, and better arranged his coat to at least make an attempt of covering them both.

"Are you sure you're okay? She asked, because she was sure he wasn't, and also because she could think of nothing else to break the heavy silence.

"I'll live" he murmured back, then without warning he leant in close to her again and kissed her, with less hesitation and half the passion of last time. He was gentle, affectionate and yielding and made no attempt to even deepen the kiss, much less take things any further. He let her set the pace, and indeed it was her who finally pulled back, nervously avoiding his gaze.

"I'm still thinking" she knew she was breaking a perfect moment between them, but she needed to make sure he understood that although she was certainly becoming more and more open to the idea of a relationship with him, she had decided nothing yet.

"I know" he answered, a touch of sadness in his voice that just killed her to hear.

"I'm going to try to get some more sleep" she whispered, and he simply nodded. Rolling over, she shut her eyes and tried not to think too much about the man next to her.

* * *

**There may have been a few mistakes in this, and for that I apologise, but I'm rushing to get it done before I go away on a university visit.**

**Because of that, I'll be away until Sunday, so don't expect anything from me until Monday at the earliest **

**Please drop in a review on your way out. :)**


	6. Chapter 5

**Yeah, I know this took me forever to update. Many apologies for that, because it's been nothing but sheer laziness. **

**Hope you like it**

_Chapter five_

The next time Olivia awoke, she was curled up on the floor with one Peter Bishop. When she'd fallen asleep there had most certainly been at least some space between their bodies, but somehow during the night Peter's arms had managed to snake their way around her body. She remained still for a moment, allowing her mind to adjust to her surroundings. She found after a few moments that she was no longer tired, however the cold, hard floor was still making her unbearably stiff. This time she refrained from stretching, hoping to avoid waking the man spooning her for a third time in one night.

Not for the first time, Olivia had to wonder how she had ended up being held like this and she had to suspect that Peter had purposefully drawn her close during the night. She wasn't about to complain, however. In fact she was grateful for his presence given that the temperature in the room seemed to have fallen several degrees in the past few hours. And there was something about having Peter pressed against her back that made her feel as close to safe as she'd ever felt since joining the Fringe Division.

Sometimes she wished that Peter could just be another Charlie in her life. Someone to laugh with, to drink with and occasionally to be held by without the risk of anything more developing between them. And for a while, she'd done a good job at convincing herself that was exactly what Peter was to her. A friend, without the benefits. It was almost a shame that after yesterday, there could be no more pretending. Indeed, after last night's conversations she knew that cuddling with him on the floor would be giving him serious mixed signals. The selfless thing to do would be to pull away now before he could wake up. It would be better all round- if he had embraced her on purpose, he would assume she'd rolled away during the night, and if he'd done it in his sleep it would prevent him thinking that she had been the one to instigate all this. And so she made a silent promise to herself of five more minutes in his arms until she would gently untangle herself from him.

Until then, she allowed her mind to wander back to the one topic that she couldn't quite stop thinking about. She had long since suspected, perhaps even known that Peter felt something for her, just as there had been a vague _something_ for him in the back of her mind for a long time now. But was it enough to risk everything for? Her reputation would be in tatters if everyone found out she was in the midst of her second office affair in two years.

But she suspected it wouldn't be like that. They would hide it from Broyles if necessary, but she wasn't willing to repeat the full fledged secrecy of last time. Rachel would definitely have to be told, as would Astrid if they were to hope for any alone time. Inevitably that would lead to Walter discovering the truth and then the whole bureau would know within matter of days. And so unless all she wanted with Peter were snatched moments in her office, or a rendezvous at a seedy motel, they were going to have to be open about the relationship. Sighing, she closed her eyes and resolved not to think any more about it until her blissful five minutes in Peter's arms were up.

Fifteen minutes later, she was still in exactly the same position, unwilling to consider pulling away quite yet. About two minutes after that, she knew she'd left it too late as she almost felt Peter awaken beside her. She knew if she pulled away now she would most likely hurt his feelings, but she didn't quite want him to realise she'd knowingly been resting in his arms for all too long. So she did the first thing that came to mind and let her eyelids flutter shut, focusing on keeping her breathing steady.

"Liv?" he mumbled sleepily, which she ignored and just like her, he took some time to savour the moment, making no effort to move for the first few minutes. Eventually, he gently eased his arm out from under her and pulled back slightly, presumably to look at the time. Finding she missed the warmth the contact had been providing, almost subconsciously she leaned back closer to him.

She expected him to return to the embrace, but instead she heard his clothes rustle as he leaned over her. She tried to keep as still as possible, but as she felt his breath on her face, she knew he was looking at her.

"I know you're awake, Livia" She allowed her eyes to flick open, knowing there was no point in pretending any longer. She turned so that she was facing him (not that it made much difference in this room, with the light off) and he propped his head up with his left hand, allowing his right to remain draped over her.

"How did you know?" she asked, curious how he could tell after spending a grand total of one night by her side

"You snore" he shrugged, and her eyebrows shot upwards.

"I do not."

"Yeah, you do." He corrected, with a sparkle in his eyes, and she found herself frowning,

"You're one to talk Peter." She grumbled, expecting a protest but receiving none. Peter simply gave her a lazy smile and continued to just look at her. Feeling self conscious, she turned her head to the side and grasped for something to say.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Not really" he admitted, "But don't worry, it wasn't your snoring that kept me awake."

"Your nightmares?" she guessed and he gave her a half nod. She didn't press him for details, knowing that if he felt cornered he could be less than forthcoming. However, this wasn't enough to prevent herself adding in a slightly annoyed tone, "You should have told me."

"Told you what? That a couple of nights a week I don't sleep particularly well? We both have more important things to worry about than that, Olivia." He was right of course but it still stung that he felt he couldn't come to her for help with matters such as these.

"If it had been me, I would have told you" she added stubbornly, and she watched him blink slowly at her, unsure whether or not to believe her. Understandable when she herself wasn't entirely sure if she meant what she said. Finally, he sighed,

"I'm sorry, then."

"Tell me about them," he raised an eyebrow at her firm tone, but simply shrugged.

"There's not much to tell. They're the same as the ones I had as a child. I'm in bed, and someone tries to abduct me in the night." He looked down in embarrassment, "I told you, it's nothing." She felt the urge to correct him, but she knew he wouldn't particularly appreciate it if she did and so she reached for his hand beneath the coat and squeezed it gently. She saw a smile flicker onto his face before he instantly replaced it with a more neutral look.

"What about you?" he asked abruptly and, confused she replied,

"What about me?"

"How did you sleep?" he asked, as if it were obvious.

"I've had worse." She half lied. Last night had been uncomfortable, cold and had left her feeling unbelievably sore all over, but she had to admit that right now, lying here with Peter wasn't an unpleasant experience at all. Peter yawned loudly and reluctantly pulled his hand away from hers as he checked the time

"It's only half seven. It'll be at least an hour before anyone starts arriving in for the morning. Do you want to go back to sleep?"

"I usually get up earlier than this anyway" she replied, finally pulling away from Peter fully, stretching and sitting up.

"Okay" Sighing, he stood up and flicked on the light switch by the door, "What now?" Olivia didn't reply immediately, instead shielding her eyes from the new, blinding light with his coat, and rubbed the sleep from them. Instead, she took time to consider what indeed they could spend the next hour or so doing. It seemed almost ridiculous to worry about it since they'd just spent close to ten hours in each other's company without any real problems arising, but she was becoming increasingly concerned with the memory of the conversation they'd had last night, and the kissing that had stemmed from it. She knew that soon Peter would want an answer to the question he had posed her last night, but honestly right now she still didn't have one.

"Olivia?" Peter prompted, sitting down against the wall and although all common sense told her to stay where she was, she moved to join him. This time, without a second thought his arm slung itself across her shoulders.

"Can't we just talk?" she finally replied and he nodded.

"Okay. What do you want to talk about?" she shot him a glare, wondering if he was being awkward for the sake of it, but from the look on his face he was genuinely stuck for something to say. Closing her eyes in defeat, she was forced to spell it out for him again.

"I'm still thinking about us."

"Fine." he replied, but from his tone, it seemed that it wasn't, "I've a feeling I'm going to regret this, but do you want to tell me what exactly is holding you back?"

"Isn't it obvious? Everything about this just screams bad idea" she sighed, "We're colleagues and we're friends and I don't want to risk that. And it'll change the whole dynamic of the team. I mean the FBI puts restrictions on fraternization for a reason. What if we have a fight? What about when we break up? It would just make everything so ridiculously awkward and..."

"Olivia," he said with a faintly amused, patient aspect to his voice, "In case you haven't noticed, we fight already. And_ if _we break up, I promise I won't walk out on you."

"You're saying that now Peter, but you and I both know a lot can change very quickly. You might not feel the same way six months from now."

"If you won't believe I'd stick around for you, you have to know I wouldn't just leave Walter. Not anymore." He reminded her, and she nodded briefly, telling herself to relax.

"It's not just that though, it's John as well." Although Peter continued to listen quietly, she felt him stiffen a little at the mention of her ex lover, "I know it's been a year, but you have to understand that it still hurts sometimes. I still miss him." She ran a nervous hand through her hair and mumbled half to Peter, half to herself,

"And I miss Charlie. He would have known what I should do about you" She risked a glance at Peter and saw him nod slowly, but he looked entirely uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was heading.

"Tell me you've got something in the pro column" he winced in mock pain, but she could see the very real nervousness in his eyes

"But" she paused for emphasis, "Despite all common sense, I like you. I really do. I can honestly say I haven't felt this way about anyone in a long time, and when I'm with you, things just seem to be better somehow. I just don't know whether or not it's enough for me to take this chance with you."

Peter was looking at her with the saddest eyes, and just as he was opening his mouth to reply, there was a thump from outside the door. At once, both their heads jerked around in time to see the door handle turn. Before anyone could so much as step through the door, Olivia recoiled from Peter, worried at once that it would be Broyles who would find her cuddled up with her civilian consultant in an old storeroom. She need not have worried, however because it was instead Walter who burst into the room, a positively ecstatic expression on his face.

"Walter, don't let that door close" she ordered immediately, and the old man nodded absentmindedly,

"Yes, yes, I know dear. It only opens from the outside. I really must get that seen to." Olivia turned to Peter to shoot him an exasperated look, but he refused to meet her gaze.

"I knew there was something I meant to tell you last night before you left, Peter. That must have been it" Walter mused aloud, "Of course if I'd known you were having some alone time with young Agent Dunham, I would have left you two for a little while longer."

"We got ourselves locked in." Olivia said quickly, so there could be no misunderstanding on Walter's part, "But we didn't find your book Walter, sorry."

"Oh no matter. I'm sure it will turn up one of these days" the scientist looked like he'd forgotten the very reason he'd sent them down here already, "Peter, I'm hungry. Can we go for pancakes?"

"Yeah, sure" Peter looked like he was barely listening to a word his father said, his gaze having returned to her, "Want to join us, Olivia?"

"No. I should be getting to work" she scrambled up off the floor and dusted herself off, "You two have fun though."

"Olivia…" Peter's tone held a vague warning, "You and I need to finish our conversation at some point."

"I know" she said, thrilled to have the chance to escape for now, "But I really have to go" And trying very hard not to glance at Peter's sceptical expression she hurried out the door.

* * *

As she climbed the stairs, her first thought was to find a bathroom.

Her second was how long she could reasonably hope to avoid Peter for. This was going to be a hard decision to make, and she was determined not to make the wrong one.

* * *

**I'm holidaying next week (yay) so I'll try to have this next (final) chapter up by Sunday, but no promises. **

**Drop in a review on your way out?**


	7. Epilogue

**Hello again. Welcome to the last instalment of my Truth or Dare fic, which has quite possibly been one of the best received fics I've ever written. It's quite long- possibly by longest so far, but I didn't really want to split it into more chapters- and I just decided to call it an epilogue, simply because they aren't in the storeroom anymore. **

**Many thanks to anyone who has reviewed this fanfic along the way. It really has been a joy to write.**

_Epilogue_

Three hours and a handful of avoided phone calls later, Olivia was trying very hard to concentrate on her work when she happened to glance up. Peter was striding purposefully through the crowded room towards her work space, FBI keycard in hand. She looked around, vaguely panicked, for although such a sight would usually be a pleasant one, right now she didn't think she could handle the conversation he was no doubt intent on having with her.

They were both showered and fed, but other than that very little appeared to have changed. To her own surprise, it seemed that distance from Peter hadn't made her decision any easier and so she briefly considered slipping out before he could reach her office. A moment later, she dismissed it as an option- he was already far too close and had to have noticed her already. In fact, she barely had time to save her report before Peter had walked in and closed the door behind him with a snap, leaning back against it.

"What?" she asked, rather more sharply than she'd intended.

"We need to talk."

"I'm still thinking," she protested, but he shook his head.

"No, Olivia. No more thinking. You made it clear last night that you've known how I feel about you for a very long time, so the way I see it, you've had forever to debate the pros and cons." He let out a breath, before his expression softened, "I can live with a no, Olivia. Just don't drag this out anymore." He looked at her expectantly and with a pang, she realised what her answer had to be.

She liked Peter, she truly did. If she were honest with herself, she realised that had it been any man other than Peter trapped with her in that storeroom, she would most likely have killed him well before dawn. He wasn't exactly her type but she still felt those all important sparks between them. In another universe she suspected they would be sleeping together already. But they lived in dangerous times and worked in perhaps the most dangerous jobs in Boston. Olivia barely had time for herself let alone time for a boyfriend. And surely, if it was meant to be, it wouldn't be this hard to make a decision. With John everything had just seemed so inevitable but now with Peter there were just so many obstacles. Too many reasons to leave things as they were.

"I think we should just be friends, Peter" Even as she was speaking part of her was screaming that she was making a mistake, but she folded her arms in an almost defensive manner and made sure her gaze betrayed no weakness. She expected him to at least attempt to talk her around, but instead he just gave a slow nod.

"I thought you would say something like that." At first glance, he looked to be completely fine with her decision, but she could see a pain flickering behind his eyes that clenched at her heart. She looked down at his shoes, knowing that if she _really_ looked at him, she might just relent.

"Are we okay?" she asked desperately. One of the many reasons she'd decided against dating him was to save their friendship from the horrific, inevitable break up. She understood that the rejection would sting, but she hoped that he would recover quickly.

"Yeah, we're fine." He agreed, but she knew him too well to believe him, "So I guess I'll see you later?"

"Yeah" she agreed softly, and sighed as she watched him walk dejectedly through the door.

* * *

She opted to stay away from Harvard for the day, having spent enough time there during the last twenty four hours to last her a lifetime, but somehow she itched to see Peter again. She told herself that she just wanted to make sure he was completely fine with her decision, but deep down within herself she knew there was something more behind her urge to meet with him. And so around one o'clock, she took a break from her work and sent Peter a short, neutral text message.

_Want to get some lunch?_

The reply came back almost instantly, but it wasn't the answer she had been hoping for

_Already eaten._

Trying not to read any more into it, Olivia returned her phone to her pocket and decided to work on with her reports. She hadn't been that hungry anyway.

* * *

Although she'd promised herself she would do otherwise, she found herself texting Peter more and more throughout the day, far surpassing the amount that was by any means normal for them. At first, she'd wondered if it would maybe be better to speak to him face to face, she tested the waters with a simple message.

_I might come over later. Does Walter want anything?_

His reply had been abrupt and come through so quickly, she doubted he'd asked his father at all.

_No._

So she decided against an impromptu visit, based on the mood Peter appeared to be in, but that wasn't enough to prevent her fingers from sending him another message about half an hour later.

_Can you come to the bureau? I need your opinion on something._

She felt quite desperate sending a message such as this, especially since she hadn't yet invented a reason to talk to him if he did agree. Clearly Peter saw straight through her little plan for it was a full hour before she received a response from him.

_I'm busy._

* * *

She managed to avoid making a fool of herself for the following few hours by putting her phone in her jacket pocket, well out of sight and therefore out of her mind. But still, when the clock hit five thirty she left the office on time for the first time in as long as she could remember. She was driving out of the car park when she consciously decided that she was going to the Bishop household to see Peter in person. If their working relationship was to survive, he couldn't go around ignoring her calls and she needed to be able to concentrate on her work without wondering whether or not he was speaking to her. She sighed in frustration. This was exactly the reason she'd turned him down in the first place.

As the minutes passed, she felt herself grow more and more angry, with both Peter and herself. They weren't teenagers. They should be more than capable of getting over this. Olivia got to his house in record time, slammed her car door and knocked on the front door impatiently, but was thrown when no answer came. Glancing back at the driveway, she realised in her haste she hadn't noticed that Peter's car wasn't there.

So he wasn't home yet. She supposed that could be a good thing. It gave her time to calm down and to think clearly about what she wanted to say. There was a good chance that if she'd spoken to him now it would've only ended up with harsh words being thrown in both directions. It was a warm, clear afternoon and so she sat herself down on his step, choosing to wait outside rather than in her car. She liked the breeze, and somehow she felt more able to think in the fresh air.

* * *

A slight chill had entered the air by the time Peter's car pulled up in the driveway. She glanced at her watch and noticed it was just a little after six thirty. She'd been waiting for maybe about an hour now, but the knowledge didn't aggravate her in the slightest. She chose not to announce her presence immediately and simply waited for him to notice her.

"I know Walter, I know, but you can't just experiment on college kids, even if they do volunteer." Peter spoke in a strained voice, as if he was about to lose his patience, but Walter carried on, oblivious to his son's obvious tension.

"Why ever not? Some of them could use the extra credit I'm sure and…" Walter broke off when he noticed Olivia sitting, hugging her knees on the doorstep, "Why Agent Dunham, what a surprise. If you'd called, you could have joined us for ice cream." Olivia merely smiled, and rose to her feet.

"That's okay Walter, I'm not hungry anyway" she risked a glance in Peter's direction, but his expression was unreadable, "I was hoping to talk to Peter, if that's okay?" Although she was speaking to Walter, it was obvious that it wasn't his permission she was asking.

"Certainly, certainly" Walter agreed amicably, "Who am I to stand in the way of young love?" Peter looked down at the ground, a light, ironic laugh escaping from him. When he looked up again, his expression was once again an impenetrable mask, but his eyes didn't hold the cold anger she'd expected. Almost as one they both looked at Walter, who was hovering several metres from them, obviously trying to listen in on their conversation.

"How about you go on inside, Walter" Peter suggested forcibly, tossing his father his keys, "This shouldn't take long."

Together they watched the old man step inside, and waited until they heard the door snap shut before they turned to look at each other again.

"So…" Peter prompted, but despite having an hour to plan everything she wanted to say, Olivia didn't know where to start. She sunk back down onto his step again, finding things seemed far easier when they were sitting at the same level. With a second's hesitation, he sat down beside her, but he made sure to leave a good amount of space between them. However the very reason she had come here was to close the distance between them- to make things right again, so she slid along the step until there was perhaps an inch of air between them. He didn't put an arm around her, but nor did he move away, which only confirmed that he wasn't as annoyed with her as she had feared.

"You were avoiding me today." She finally accused, and he sighed.

"You shot me down less than six hours ago Olivia, so I'm sorry but you weren't exactly on my list of the top ten people to see today." As she had feared, he was just so plainly not okay with this, and desperately she rushed to explain herself.

"It's not that I don't want you Peter. I'm just so unbelievable screwed up right now, you know? And…" his bitter laugh cut her off, and she raised a questioning eyebrow

"Tell me you didn't just try to pull the old, '_It's not you, it's me_,' card on me." Despite everything, a smirk that mirrored his began to form on her face

"Yeah, I guess I just did."

"And here was me thinking this day couldn't get any worse." He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, but the smile was still in place. Feeling her own grin falter, Olivia looked down at the ground again

"I mean it, you know. It really _is _me." She glanced up at the sky for inspiration, and finding none, she continued anyway, "And it's this job."

"I know" he let out another deep breath and stared ahead, "We're going to be okay, Liv. You're just going to have to give me a couple of days." She loved him. In that instant, for one fleeting moment, she truly loved him. She knew he was in a lot more pain than he was allowing her to see, and yet he still insisted on being heart wrenchingly nice to her.

She knew she should probably leave, but she really didn't want to go just yet. In these past twenty four hours, he'd bared a lot more of his soul to her than she really deserved to see, and she wanted to give just a little something back.

"You're my best friend." She spoke abruptly, "Have I ever told you that?"

"No" he said softly, accompanied by a slight shake of the head. She risked glancing at him, and got caught up in one of his searching stares. A look that always managed to crumble her resolve. In one second, all of her well thought out speeches and mental pros and cons list went to hell, and she found that she continued to ramble,

"I've never really had a best friend before, but I think this is what it's like. I mean, I trust you like I trusted Charlie. More than I ever could trust John, and that makes absolutely no sense, because John was a cop and you were a criminal, but that's just the way it is." She met Peter's gaze and found that he was regarding her with a faintly amused smile

"I get it, Olivia." He paused and the smile faded as quickly as it had arrived, "I feel the same way, you know. Three years ago, I would never have believed an FBI agent could mean so much to me, but sometimes life has a way of surprising you."

It did indeed. Olivia somehow managed to meet his eyes again, and suddenly, she found herself unwilling to leave him again. Right now, or in fact any time in the next few hours. She hid a frown. Was it really natural to want to see so much of someone? Swallowing hard, she realised she'd only ever felt this way about one man before and up until last year, she'd considered him the love of her life.

She'd already rejected Peter's advances, and explained why to him in a gloriously painful conversation. She finally felt like their friendship could recover from this in the coming weeks. So why did she suddenly want to turn both of their worlds upside down again? She must be a glutton for punishment.

"You're my best friend." She repeated after a time, "So if we're going to do this, you have to promise me that won't ever change." She watched him carefully as he processed what she said. The intense stare flicked to confusion which finally gave way to a sudden, tentative realisation.

"Do what…?" he asked carefully, clearly not wanting to misunderstand her in any way, but she said nothing for a moment and instead chose to watch the birds take flight overheard and fly home to roost.

Finally, she turned to look at him and whispered.

"Truth or dare, Peter?" he blinked at her for a few moments before he replied in an equally low tone.

"Dare." Tantalizingly slowly, she brushed her lips against his. He responded immediately, kissing her with all the intensity of the previous night, cupping her cheek with one hand and allowing the other to tug gently at her hair.

"So what was that?" he breathed as he pulled away.

"I changed my mind" she admitted, a blush spreading across her face as his eyes widened.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that" she confirmed. He looked sceptical, and so she whispered,

"I'm sorry I hurt you earlier, but you're going to have to trust me here. I just realised that life's too short to not take this chance." A smile that lit up his eyes suddenly overcame him, and he leaned towards her, pressing a light kiss to her lips that quickly deepened into something more passionate.

"I guarantee you Walter is watching from some window" he chuckled when they broke apart and she couldn't help but laugh with him. She leant against him in much the same way as she had done yesterday, resting her head on his shoulder.

"So what now?" she finally asked, knowing it would please him to have some of the power back.

"Now? We take things slow" he said decisively, and as much as part of her was willing to drag him up to his bedroom now, they both knew she wasn't quite ready for that yet.

"I was hoping you'd say that" she admitted, "How about drinks after work tomorrow, case permitting?"

"Sounds good to me" he pressed a light kiss on the top of her head, before standing.

"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?" she began, reluctantly reaching for her keys in her coat pocket.

"No you don't" Peter said firmly, wrapping an arm around her waist and steering her towards his house, "You, Olivia Dunham, are going to be educated in your boyfriend's favourite TV show."

"Lost?" she recalled with a frown that melted as he kissed her forehead.

"Yeah, and you're going to love it" he mumbled into her ear.

"And what if I don't like it?"

"Well I haven't really thought that far ahead yet, but I'm pretty certain I would have to break up with you" he teased, before adding, "Seriously though, if you can't stay, that's fine." She really should return to her paperwork, but looking at him now, she couldn't help but agree,

"I suppose I could spare a few hours."

"Good" he kissed her neck once more before reaching around her to open the front door. Leaning forward so his breath tickled her hear, he whispered, "Anyway, you couldn't leave me to face Walter's inquisition on my own, could you?"

They'd only taken one step inside the house when Walter's cries began,

"This is just wondrous news! I simply can't wait to tell Asteroid."

* * *

**One more review**?


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